


Ring In The New

by fiveroundsrapid



Category: Holby City
Genre: AU, F/F, Multi, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9238811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveroundsrapid/pseuds/fiveroundsrapid
Summary: A re-working of Holby City from S16, E12, with an earlier introduction of Bernie Wolfe:Serena Campbell's life is at the moment, pretty crap. She's been humiliated by her ex-husband, is undervalued by the new CEO and has reached the bountiful depression that is middle age. So, when a new trauma surgeon turns up on Kellar, essentially her equal, it's another turn of the knife. Little does she know this woman will become her first port of call - through her mother's condition, her job worries, everything. Bernie Wolfe might just be the best thing to happen to Serena.





	1. New Year

Bernie Wolfe looked up at the ominous building as she switched off the engine to her little sports car. What on Earth was she doing here? Her husband, Marcus, was thrilled of course, and the children. Bernie had been in the Army; a medic and one of the finest trauma surgeons. But doing such things as a tracheotomy in the dust and the heat now seemed a mile away to this sterile hub of hierarchy and bureaucracy that she was now. Major Berenice Griselda Wolfe no longer, thanks to that IED. Now it was just Ms Bernie Wolfe, Locum GS Consultant.

Cigarette. Should she? Perhaps not. Bernie has a meeting with Mr Self, CEO and the man that mended her spine, before her first post. It was he that had offered her the job, all grease and charm, ready to get one of the country's top trauma surgeons to work for him and only him. She was ready, to give the whole work/family balance thing a go.  
Getting out of the car and walking in with much more confidence than she truly had, she realises she has just missed the lift, bumping into a young man in a leather jacket as her attention is diverted to her phone. 'The Husband' is clear to read and she smiles softly, answering the call.

"Don't worry, I'm here." She responds as she presses the button for the lift. "...what does it look like?" A hand reaches up to tuck back a stray blonde curl as she surveys the small coffee shop, the young man in leather now back to flirting with two nurses. "Civilian."

***

Serena Campbell drove into the car park of Holby City Hospital. A new year, a new pile of gossip to face, courtesy of her very much ex-husband, Edward. How she ever thought he might change, or that she would spot his little tricks from a mile away... how naive had she been? Her already tentative career now hanging little by little, as Guy Self seemed avid to chip away at her.  
A steady breath left her lips, as she pulled down the sun visor, checks herself in the mirror. Not a hair out of place. Ready to face the day, she hopes. Though she may need a lot of caffeine. 

***

"Ah, Ms Wolfe, it's a pleasure to have you on board. I thought I might give you the tour, introduce you to your new colleagues on Kellar Ward." Guy told her as they stood in his office, though he clearly had somewhere else to be. 

"No need." Bernie gave a tight smile. NHS: clearly all agendas and politics. "I'm sure I'll get to know them soon enough. I'll get to work now, shall I?" That seemed to throw him off guard.

"Yes, I'm sure they could do with all the help they can get." Bernie gave a curt nod, picked up her satchel and walked out of the office, shoulders back.

***

Finally, Serena makes it onto the ward, only to see Dr Arthur Digby with his back to her and a very large book in his hands. Irritation burns inside her; can people not just work for once in their lives? Unable to stop herself, she pauses, observing for a moment before picking the perfect time for a sarcastic questioning.

"Honour go slow, Dr Digby?" The clinical lead inquires, sternly. Arthur practically jumps out of his skin, getting to his feet, all bluster, and nervous energy when he sees Serena. Good to see her power has not diminished over the little juniors, even if it has drastically decreased in the boardroom.

"Ms Campbell!" He plonks the book down on the desk, only enabling a cup of cold coffee onto the floor at her feet. He lets out a cry of alarm. "We weren't expecting you today." He tries to remedy his mistake, rushing out from under the nurses desk and grabbing a pack of tissues to clear the spillage as Serena walks past it.

"Clearly."

"Oh-er- I just, just wanted to say how sorry I was to hear about you and, well... you know, you and, um." The look on Serena's face is enough to make him shut up. She's already had the condolences from Dr Tressler, this is the last thing she needs. "I'd better clear this up, hadn't I?" 

"Yes." And walk on, Serena. Into the path of Ric Griffin.

"Serena." A note of surprise but his is a welcome sight and she smiles in response. A quick mutter to the nurse at his side to get the patient into bed three, and then she can see the look in his eyes. "Good to see you."

"I take it you've heard about my darling ex?"

"Yes." He replied, slowly. Ric had other news for Serena, since they weren't expecting her in today they had a locum in; a Ms Berenice Wolfe. Ex-Iraq, Ex-Afghanistan. She'd been here and hour or so and already started to ruffle feathers, not too dissimilar to when Serena had started herself. "Are you sure you should be back so soon?"

"Yes, yes, yes. Work's a welcome distraction. And, as Churchill once said: if you're going through hell...keep going." And don't sit on your sofa as New Years rings out its fireworks, cradling a bottle of Shiraz, with a Chocolate Orange as your only friend. It's only when she brushes past Ric, that the smile falls.

"Oh, Serena?" Ric calls after her, and she turns around.

"Yes?" 

"Just so you know, as you weren't expected today, we've got a consult in."

"Oh really?" The response is tetchy at best. Who could Guy replace her with now? "Who?"

"Major Berenice Wolfe. Former Consultant Trauma Surgeon for the British Army. Ex-Iraq, Ex-Afghanistan. Now, Locum GS Consultant on Kellar Ward." He reels off, taking in her response. Serena only engages in a slight raise of an eyebrow before heading to her office. She's got a list of CVs to compile and get onto Guy's desk before the end of play.

***

Bernie scrubbed her hands to within an inch of her life, leaving them raw and red. The surgery had gone on a while but had been a success. The ward in which she had been placed; Keller, tended to deal with mostly elective surgeries. It was a far cry from the injuries she was used to in the field, and hand-holding was never her specialty. Either way, the introduction to Keller was short, and looked like a tight fit for the former army surgeon. But she was going to try. She had to try.

Leaving the theatre, she directs the porters to take her patient back onto the ward and for half-hourly obs before a voice pipes up as she takes off her surgeons hat, her hair all fluffy and imperfect in a hastily drawn up ponytail.

"That was quite the performance, Ms Wolfe." She looked up to see a dark-skinned man, suited and with short hair. He smiled and held out a polite hand. "Ric Griffin, welcome to Holby." Ah, so this was the head of AAU. A stalwart in the hospital, so she had overheard, he was very much respected. She shook the hand.

"Bernie, please." 

"Bernie." He accepted. "I thought I should make you aware that Mr Levy, a consultant, isn't in yet, so it'll just be you and Ms Campbell on the front line as it were."

"Fine by me." She had no clue who this Ms Campbell was, but was a big enough girl to know that she could handle a ward. Even get it efficient, so much so that Mr Levy might hardly recognise it. He hands her some notes.

"Jordon Metcalf. Car crash. Can I trust you to look over the case for me? Dr Digby is doing the tests as we speak and I've got Serena on hand with the police. I've got to get back to AAU." Bernie skimmed the notes, seeing the blood tests pending and nodded. Ric watched with professional curiosity as to the new addition. He knew Serena was fragile, and despite the usual cold eyebrow raise that came with a new locum, Guy had apparently given her 'quite the character assassination'. She needed someone to help her today, not hinder. Finally, Bernie looked up and gave an accepting smile.

"Lead the way."

***

"Hello, Jordon, my name is Ms Wolfe. Mr Griffin put me in charge of your case." 

"What? No, he said he'd sort it, I don't want some sort of lackey." 

"Mr Griffin has been called away but I think you'll find I have plenty of experience. Now, would you care to tell me what happened?" 

Meanwhile, Serena was just returning from a very quick jaunt to Pulses. If she was going to get through this day she needed a full fat latte. She had binned those CVs for the anesthetist post. Lord knows why she had even bothered since in Guy's head all she was good for was minding her own business as he did naff all. And now Sasha had phoned in sick. Of all the bloody things...

She left her office, intending to phone Ric, let him know, when her gaze fell on the beds, and specifically on the leggy blonde currently speaking to Mr Metcalf. She wasn't a relative, nor looked like a policeman. Stood there in a form-fitting black blouse and skinny jeans, back to Serena. Irritation boiled as she stalked over there. 

"Excuse me, just what do you think you're doing?" Serena said, curtly enough so that her disapproval on this stranger harassing her patients was very much clear.

"Bernie Wolfe, new locum consultant. This is my patient." Bernie said, shortly. She finally got a good look at the woman; stellar cheekbones, brown eyes and a small scar on her neck that piqued interest. On Bernie's part, she was rather taken by the feisty brunette, if a little annoyed. Sh was only trying to do her job, one that was now hindered by stupid questions.

"And I think you'll find this is my ward. Are those the blood results, Dr Digby? Thank you." She didn't wait for an answer from the bespectacled doctor before taking them off of his hands. Bloods all looked normal. As she read these she failed to noticed the shock on Bernie's face. No one spoke like that to her. In the Army she was in total control and now this woman swanned in with her floaty blouses and expressive eyes... 

"Ah. You must be Serena Campbell."

"That would be the one." Serena said, non-committedly, passing the bloods over to Ms Wolfe and turning to leave, a pump of sanitizer on her palms as she goes, leaving the consult to read the notes on her own. Bernie does just that.

Then she follows.

***


	2. Trauma Is Better With Two

"Ms Campbell?" Bernie called after her, Jordon's notes in hand. Serena raised an eyebrow to no one in particular (though Digby shrank at the nurses' station) before turning roUND to meet this new locum. Surely the esteemed Major Wolfe didn't have a problem on her hands? Or was it just that she was another one of Guy's minions, ready to knife her in the back if she so chooses?

Bernie fumbled a bit at the scathing look Ms Campbell gave her. This woman was clearly annoyed, and Bernie found it a bit unfair that the annoyance seemed to be directed at her. She was only doing her job.

"Yes?" Serena smiled, tightly. Professionalism was her middle name, after all.

"I was going to send Jordon for an abdominal ultrasound. Thoughts?" Bernie asked, and upon receiving a questioning look from the woman opposite her, shrugged. "You know the patient more than I do, and Mr Griffin trusts your clinical opinion." It was placating but rather a statement of facts, and one Bernie felt ought to tell Ms Campbell that she wasn't the enemy. Surgery was a team effort... though the army had less of the politics so perhaps it was the other career talking.

"You don't need my oversight. And you've got a lot more in common with him than I do; apparently the Royal Marines have taken rather a liking to our bull in a china shop."

"Ah." So, her background was known. Bernie gave a reliable nod, glancing down at the notes. Serena cleared her throat, suddenly awkward. This woman was rather... disarming. An unknown variable, and not what she needed today.

"Right, well, I'd best be off home before Guy Self decides to _swoop_ his vultures down."

"I'm sorry?"

"I was just holding the fort till Ric got back but seeing as you're here I'd best get my bag. Pleasure, Ms Wolfe." And with that, Serena waltzed towards the office, detirmined to get her coat as quickly as possible and hope to god that Digby didn't start quoting Napolean.

***

Bernie pushed the wheelchair across the floor of Kellar, hearing her name called out from behind her, she paussed and turned to see a rather flushed looking Dr Digby. A scrawny lad who looked about 12 but had completed his medical training so she was told; he was a junior on the ward and all nervous energy and eagerness. He'd cornered her in the staff room earlier and started quizzing her about military strategies over her store-bought sandwich. All in all, he was an odd, if not likable young doctor.

"Doctor Digby, can I help?" She asked, curtly.

"Sorry- it's just... well, I thought that was Ms Campbell's case?" He fidgeted slightly.

"Ms Campbell went home to my knowledge." Bernie had seen the brunette slip out.

"She's back. T-That is to say, Mr Self said she could stay on Keller to help with Mr Levy and Mr Griffin's absence. She's in her office." Arthur pushed his glasses up his nose slightly. He'd seen her come back onto the ward, scarf and coat now discarded and looking immensely relieved, and pleased, to be back at work. 

"Well, Mr Metcalf needs his ultrasound, and Ms Campbell is obviously busy with... paperwork. If that's all, Dr Digby?" Bernie didn't wait for an answer.

***

"So, the Royal Marines, hm?" Bernie approached Jordon's bed, a wheelchair at the ready for him to hope into; she was going to take him straight down to Ultrasound. Jordon stared stonily back. It was like Cameron after she confiscated one of his games... back when he was 11. "It's a prestigious organization." A nod to the wheelchair. "Hop in."

"So, what's it to you?" He asked, as Bernie helped him out of his bed, despite his glaring. 

"Just seeing who I'm passing the baton too." She said, conspiracy alluded in her voice. He looked up with surprise. Who wouldn't? Though, the Navy was a little bit different to her game. "RAMC. Until very recently." She started wheeling.

"Where's Mr Griffin?"

"Unavailable."

"W-Hang on!" Jordon put his feet down, effectively bringing the wheelchair to a halt just as Serena Campbell stepped out into the corridor. There was a pause as she took in the scene. Bernie's ears were red.

"Mr Metcalf, we meet again. What seems to be the problem now?" This last question was directed at Bernie. 

"We're heading down to Ultrasound."

"Not without Mr Griffin- I'll wait!" Jordon refused. Serena gave a sigh. Of all the days to get a pig-headed patient, now was not one of them... Serena looked over at Ms Wolfe, and oddly, they seemed to have a conversation silently. They barely knew each other but obviously, their minds must work the same way or something because as Serena approached, Bernie let go of the handles of the wheelchair, and allowed her to take over, slipping over to the wall phone where she made a call to ultrasound to check if they were prepped.

But as Serena conversed with Mr Metcalf... Bernie couldn't take her eyes away. She was good. Really good. Tough but kind, and a genuine concern for her patients. What Bernie thought was anger at the start of her shift, or annoyance, was just stubbornness to do her job well. And given Jordon's change of heart... she was very, very good at that job.

*** 

Bernie's phone pinged with a text alert. She was heading towards the office, Jordon's scans in her hands. She'd taken a look herself but Ms Campbell and herself seemed to have taken dual responsibility for the case and she'd rather not step on so many toes before her first shift ended.  
Reaching into her jeans pocket, she took out her mobile. It was Marcus. A fond smile crossed her lips. _How's it going?_ She began to type back, tucking the scan under her arm and opening the door to the office with her other hand, without knocking: _Shi-_

Suddenly she flicked her head off at the sound of Ms Campbell shouting down her phone.

"... while you, no doubt, are propping up some sleazy bar with a pint of vodka and a gullible blonde on your knee!" She spat the words out and then hung up on Edward with a triumphant fire in her eyes

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Bernie blurted, embarrassed at having intruded. Serena only then noticed her presence, and visibly deflated.

"Don't be. Everyone else in this damn hospital seems to know my dirty laundry, there's no reason you shouldn't be up to speed." Bernie didn't really know what to say to that, and so sat on the desk opposite, laying the scans down next to her. This prompted Serena to go on. "That was my darling ex-husband. Calling me to see if I'm sufficiently broken after falling for his sleaze the last time. Unfortunately for his male ego I was unable to oblige- I'm perfectly happy without him, thank you." The rant seemed to burst forth from Serena, cathartic in it's honestly and to be honest, whilst she wanted to use harsher language, it was good to have someone to talk to that didn't know of her complete naivety in regards to Edward _effing_ Campbell.

"Remind me never to cross you." Bernie said, mirth in her eyes. Fiery, she'd been right about that. If she was Serena's ex, she'd run into a hole and promptly stay there. Serena gave an honest grin; the new consultant was teasing her. 

"Yes, though I could do with a nice dose of the old Shiraz right about now." That prompted a laugh from Bernie; rich and deep.

"I'm a whiskey kinda gal myself." Struck suddenly, by the bizarre thought to ask her out for a drink after work, Bernie chastised herself. She was here to build bridges with her family. New friends could wait. Maybe friends would even be too strong a word. Ally? After all, she got a distinct impression that Serena didn't like Guy either so that would certainly keep the conversation going. Plus, Bernie wanted to know more about her.

"I wouldn't say no to that either." Serena chuckled, thinking the exact same thing... she needed to know more about this woman. 

"You sure you're alright?" Bernie queried, nodding her head towards Serena's mobile. Serena bristled. Perhaps she was a minion for Guy after all. Finding out how she was, her weakness. Why else would this veritable stranger be remotely bothered in her wellbeing. Despite the look in her eyes.

"Yes, quite, thank you." Back to medicine, Campbell. "So- ah, you got Jordon's results." Bernie's eyes flickered to the papers at her side.

"Yes. There's free fluid in his abdominal area." Bernie crossed the room, over to Serena's side of the desk, so she stood next to the seated vascular surgeon.

"That, plus the position of his seatbelt injuries, I'd say indicates damage to the spleen." Serena had already been looking at the scans on her IPad.

"Nothing we can know for certain. Might be just as good... watching and waiting?" Bernie offered, loathing the term. She preferred to get things done before it got any worse, but in this case, she knew it had to be waited out, to see the extent of the damage and create a more precise diagnosis. "If it is the spleen, some injuries heal over time."

"And if it becomes unstable, Ms Wolfe?"

"We go straight into theatre."

"We?" 

"Trauma is always better with two, isn't it?" Bernie said, moving to exit but then paused, and smiled. "And it's Bernie."

And she left a rather bewildered Serena staring at a closed door. Leaning against the office door, Bernie drew out her phone again:  _Shift going great._

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reception so far. Hope you enjoyed the little fluffier exchange at the end. At the moment, Serena isn't open to Bernie's tentative moves to friendship as she is emotionally drained by Edward and thinks Bernie is cushy with Guy and possibly a replacement. We'll have to see how it pans out!


	3. Chapter 3

Serena looked at the door for a moment, at the spot where the new consultant had just been, mulling over the words. She was certainly puzzling. Perhaps it is her own bias, her own expectations that lead her to this view. But female collegues, especially in business or in medicine, were always tricky. Ulterior motives were practically the foundation of NHS politics, but of course, you could ask Edward that. Urgh.  
Maybe she should give Bernie a chance, she did seem after all a competent doctor- the best in her field, and had not judged her for Edward. Always a bonus. Her mind's thoughts turned once again to imaginings of her hands around her ex-husband's throat. Suddenly, Arthur burst in, admittedly with a polite knock, and she jolted out of her train of thought.

"Yes?" She asked, looking towards him.

"Sorry to interrupt, but it's Jordon Metcalfe. He's increasingly peritonitic." Arthur explained and Serena got up and out of the office, with Arthur explaining as they went. "He's got a fever, he's feeling nauseous and the pain appears to be getting worse."

"Which indicates what?" Serena asked; it was a teaching hospital after all.

"Perforation of an organ in the gastrointestinal tract." Arthur answered, promptly. Serena's eyebrows bunched together; no sign of flyaway blonde hair anywhere on the ward. Annoyance grew; this was her patient supposedly. 

"Where's Ms Wolfe?"  She asked, and Arthur stuttered.

"HR, something about her contract. She said she wouldn't be long." He jumped at a thought. "Shall I page her?"

"No need, we don't need her." They reached Jordon. He was very much howling in pain, clutching at his side. 

"What's happening?" He sobbed. Serena pumped some sanitizer on her hands and soothed the young lad;

"It's all right, it's all right." She performed an abdominal exploration, her hands acting as eyes, seeing the problem. "We need to get you into theatre."

"What, surgery? No way, man." Jordon protested, but his request was rather undercut as he doubled over in the bed. Serena wasn't having it. He needed that surgery otherwise he'd die.

"I'm afraid we have no choice." Serena stalked away, Digby following. She was already doing a mental checklist in her mind, of all the things they'd need and she'd have to do. This was her element and a surge of determination drew her up to full height. "We need to do this as quickly as possible. I'll alert theatre."

"I'll call Ms Wolfe." 

"There's no need." 

"But she told me to call her, and he's unstable..."

"We don't need her." Bernie Wolfe was here for five minutes and suddenly the ward couldn't function without it's new locum? Please. They may be around the same in age and years of experience but Serena knew this hospital like the back of her hand, and was confident in her own skills- she didn't need a babysitter. Arthur floundered a little, knowing trauma needed experience and after all, Ms Wolfe had been in the RAMC, she was good at this, and it was her patient.

"I could get Mr Griffin if you'd prefer?" He asked, thinking that that might be the problem. Serena stopped walking, turned to him, eyes flashing.

"The last time I checked, I was a consultant surgeon of more than ten years' standing. And I tell you there is no need." She said, curtly, almost daring him to disagree with her. He wouldn't.

*******

Bloody paperwork. Some mix up with her contract and she'd needed to leave the ward for half a bleedin' hour to go to HR and sort it. Bernie had yet to be confronted with major paperwork of her own, but then again, there was plenty of time. Bernie checked her pager. Nothing. Getting back into the lift, she toyed with her mobile phone, checking to see if Marcus had texted back. An amused hmph came from pressed lips at her husband's text: _Civilian life not boring you yet? It's a miracle._

Boring was not a word she would use to describe this shift. Oh, the medicine was fine, easy in fact compared to conducting amputations in the dust and the heat. No DIY in sight at this place. The people, however, were much more complicated, and Bernie was certainly one to watch the people rather than the walls. There was Zosia March; brilliant, young and slightly damaged. Guy Self; arrogant, egotistical and dishonest in a way that Bernie hated because it wasn't quite outright... it was sneaky. Digby, who was slowly growing on Bernie. He had a good head on his shoulders, a thirst to prove himself despite bumbling appearances. Ric Griffin seemed a good man; brusque and brisk, and his experience showed. And then, of course, there was Serena. She was a puzzle. Strong and emotional and blunt and clever and soft and all things at once. At one point she's all but telling Bernie off for doing her job, and the next she's talking softly to a patient to make him get a scan. Either way, she's brilliant.

The lift dinged and she got out, heading back towards Keller. She came onto the ward, eyes immediately spotting that Jordon Metcalfe wasn't there. Why hadn't she been paged? Had he become unstable? She checked with one of the nurses; no, not gone to the loo. He'd been rushed to theatre by Ms Campbell and Dr Digby. Apparently, Mr Griffin had now been paged and had gone in. Fighting the urge to go territorial on her patient, she all but ran towards the OR, and opened the door, heading towards the observation room; to talk to them, see if she was needed. But no sooner had she swung open a door, someone pushed back against it.

Serena. She was still donned in her scrubs, her mouth cover in her hand, the other hand wrenching at her scrub cap. Bernie stumbled back, caught unawares, as was Serena, who looked up almost in a daze. 

"The patient?" Bernie asked, bluntly. She tried to be sensitive, really did, but it seemed her bedside manner needed work. Serena bristled, instantly defensive, especially having endured a verbal beatdown by Ric in theatre, and looking like an absolute fool. She should never have come in, or she should have paged Ms Wolfe or something... _damn Edward_ for doing this, for making her feel so weak. For throwing her off. She should've checked the bladder. Too late now, though.

"Mr Griffin and Dr Digby are with him." She answered, curtly. Her scrub cap fell away into her hands, leaving her hair mussed and her face flushed. She binned her scrub gown and started walking away, but Bernie wasn't having that. She couldn't just leave it at that. Serena noticed and then looked away, determined to ignore the woman- _just leave things be,_ Ms _Wolfe!_

"But why aren't you in there? And why wasn't I paged?" Bernie followed her, voice louder and commanding. Her Lieutenant Colonel would've been proud.

"I was handling it." Serena bristled.

"Which is why you're pulling some sort of strop, running away from an operation that I'm sure you're capable of doing!"

"Watch your tone, Ms Wolfe."

"First day nerves; not my style." Bernie wasn't backing down. It was a bit 'bull in the china shop' but she couldn't give a damn about any NHS politics. She wanted straight facts, she wanted the truth; from patients and her colleagues. She took a deep breath and tried again. "I know you're dealing with personal-"

"That's enough, Ms Wolfe. You have patients to attend to."

"Serena-" But she was gone, leaving Berie stood there like a lemon on the ward. Eventually, she gave a great heave of a sigh and raised her hands up in surrender. It would seem that this may be the start of something long and painful. 

*******

Serena sighed in the office, eyes drawn to her coat hung up. She should go home, really. Picking it up, she slung it over her shoulder and exited, hoping for a quiet exit that would save her dignity. And lead to Albies and a large glass of something alcoholic. Passing out onto the ward, she noticed Bernie, deep in conversation with a patient. Oh, what a fool she'd been, and what Ms Wolfe must think of her! An idiot, most likely.   
Bernie looked up from the notes she was explaining, and saw Serena outside her office, looking her way. They said nothing, just passed a look between them before Bernie gave a nod of her head, and Serena a nod of hers.

_Truce?_ Bernie gave a small smile at the lay down of arms, before she nodded in another direction, diverting Serena's attention to Ric.

Bernie gave a small smile at the lay down of arms, before she nodded in another direction, diverting Serena's attention to Ric. 

Right, Serena thought, Time for that exit. Bernie watched her go and then continued talking to Mr Wilkins about his dietry habits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next it shall be: SELF CONTROL. Very excited for this one. Might the two women bond over quaffing a fine bottle of New Zealand Marlborough. And also there will be a funny scene where Bernie's true opinion of Guy will be told. Guy's spy? Not a chance.


	4. Chapter 4

Bernie brushed a stray blonde curl out of her eyes. She sat on the edge of the nurses' desk, perched as was now normal for the trauma surgeon. Slowly but surely she was getting the hang of this NHS lark. She'd had a few run-ins with Ric, and finally gotten around to meeting Sacha Levy, towards whom she had a tremendous envy. Not for his surgical skill, though it was good, she could probably perform surgeries he'd never thought of daring to do, but rather... of his warmth. He was easily able to put people at ease whereas Bernie tended to be blunt and logical. Blunt and logical never tended to work with elective patients.

Her eyes scanned the chart in front of her, and her eyes widened in the attempt to keep them open. She was nearing the end of a double shift, and was exhausted. Worse than that though, was some fancy do she had to attend with Marcus. An old college reunion where she had to get her glad rags on and smile as Marcus took his wife out for a spin.

Bernie signed off on the chart and glanced at the clock. She was going to need to at least get out of her scrubs and into her civvies if she was going to make it on time to get ready. At least Charlotte was excited though; to dress her mum up. Bernie was heading over to Charlotte's flat to get ready. Her dress was hung in a garment bag in the locker room. Bernie couldn't really care less about all that stuff. The odd brush of mascara and a clear lippy to stop them getting dry was as much effort as she put into her daily routine. But it would be nice to spend time with Charlotte.

"Dr Digby, I'm about to head off. Is there anything you need from me before I go?" Bernie asked, half hoping he would say yes. But there was Sacha on the ward and Serena had an hour or so left on her shift, she thought.

"Er- no. No! We should be fine."

"Fantastic. See you tomorrow." Bernie bid before hopping off the desk and taking her straining curls from the blunt ponytail they were in.

"Have a good night," Arthur said, despite having no clue on the Major's plans. She tended to keep herself to herself. Bernie headed down the ward to exit, only to find that, just as she was nearing, the exit was home to Serena Campbell and Guy Self in conversation. Arrogant jerk, Bernie thought. Admittedly she didn't know what to make of Serena Campbell yet, even though she'd been picking up shifts for over a week now. But Guy Self made her skin crawl.

"-I do hope you're not keeping your deputy out of a Heads of Strategy meeting?" Serena was asking him, all smiles. Bernie pursed her lips, nipping into the staffroom to grab her bag before returning outside to the corridor. Her dress was hung up on her wardrobe at home but she needs to grab her civvies and her dress from the locker room.

"Oh, no. Nothing important. Your proposal's on my to-do list." Guy placated her. Serena's eyes narrowed. _Ouch_.

"Prick." Bernie murmured under her breath as Guy left to meet up and charm the suited and booted that were currently waiting by the lift. Her words carried through and Serena turned sharply at the sound to see Bernie, deer in the headlights, trying to find her key in her handbag. "Sorry."

"No, I quite agree," Serena said with a slight smile, disappointed at the sidelining she was continuing to get from the CEO. But it made her pause. "You don't like him then?"

"Not as far as I can throw him." Bernie nodded, conspirative. Serena had the good grace to look surprised. Up till now, what with Ms Wolfe working every day this week and charming Sacha over the importance of biscuits to have a productive day, and joking around with Ric on the exploits of Rocky... Serena had felt threatened, sure that Bernie was Guy's woman. It wouldn't have surprised her. This, however, did. A woman without an agenda was hard to come by.

"Yes, well, you'd expect him to have some respect for a woman with a MD and a Harvard MBA." Serena sniffed, a little primly. Bernie's eyebrows raised. She hadn't know Serena's full credentials. She let out a low whistle. Serena blushed. The two women shared a smile. Serena headed back onto the ward, and Bernie to the locker room.

 

*******

 

Serena headed home, her furry hat defiantly perched on her head, and her scarf bundled against the bitter winds that were stirring. At this point, all she wanted was a ready meal for one and a vat of Shiraz. But it seems her hellish day was not yet over. Edward was striding over to her. She swore under her breath, coming to a stop. The utter cheek of him.

"Happy anniversary." Edward smiled, revealing a bouquet from behind his back. Most likely from a gas station, thought Serena.

"Unbelievable." If looks could kill, Serena's was murderous.

"I haven't had a drink in seven days."

"Aren't you clever." She bit out as Edward looked at her with sad puppy eyes that once would have made her crumble. Now it made him look just that: sad. Sad, pathetic and alone. Just how Serena preferred him. It's what he deserved after all.

"I knew your clinic ended around lunch, so I've been waiting."

"Desperate and creepy. What woman could resist?"

"26 years ago today we ran away to that registry office. Nothing's changed for me."

"Yes, you vomited into my bouquet and got me banned from a reasonably priced hotel chain. Being shot down in flames with you has lost its charm." Anger boiled in her. Edward seemed oblivious. Bizarre; the emotions were plain on her face and after all, he was professing to have been head over heels for her for over 26 years. He really should recognise the expression of loathing on her face when he saw it.

"They're punishing you for what I did?"

"Oh, bless you. Reminiscing about our cheap and nasty wedding didn't work, so now you're trying to break my resolve by making me paranoid about my future prospects?"

"Serena, if you don't want to see me I can't make you..."

"Says the man stalking me in a car park."

"But if you're giving up the one thing that makes you happy to get back in the Trust's good books, then my heart breaks for you."

"And when did I decide that you are the 'one thing' that makes me happy?" Serena said in a scathing tone, making to move past him, but Edward followed, stating his flimsy, guilt-tripping and crappy case to her.

Meanwhile, Bernie cradled the phone to her ear, juggling her handbag, a coffee, and the garment bag. Marcus had been called in to assist with a surgery, and so would be late. Bernie was bloody relieved if it meant they were canceling the plans. Anything that meant she was going to escape being trussed up in a dress and paraded around to Marcus' old college mates.

"Well then that's fine- we can do something some other time." She sighed into the phone, simultaneously trying to find her car keys. This bag was a black hole sometimes, she swore.

"It'll be fine. It's only a quick thing and I've got my tux at the hospital. I'll be done in a couple of hours, I can meet you there."

"If you're on call-"

"It'll be fine. I'll meet you there, yeah?"

"Sure. Yeah. Fine. See you there." Bernie closed her eyes, dumping the garment bag on the passenger seat of her little car. Crap, there goes that plan. She was still going to go. The best she could hope for now was to feign a headache and leave early. Bernie really did hate these things. People poncing about trying to shout out that thier lives were better than their former classmates.  _Dear God, let it be a free bar._

"Love you." Marcus' voice crackled on the other end.

"Ditto." Bernie's stomach churned.


End file.
